


A Drink for Never

by Aria_of_Clarets



Series: To Fall For You [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_of_Clarets/pseuds/Aria_of_Clarets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not an ideal meeting, or so, Magnus sure thought. He wondered if the girl would kill him, but she didn't, and he still had all four limbs, and not a single broken bone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Drink for Never

**Author's Note:**

> [Eh...I intended to upload the entire collection thus far all together, but I failed to complete them on time, so whatever. This story was mostly practice for writing Denmark's personality, and trying to find a more subtle flavour for my writing, so yeah...it's probably awful.   
> Magnus Densen/Denmark  
> Natallia Arlovskaya/Belarus  
> Enjoy the terrible mindfuck known as my terrible writing. Rated for potty mouths.]

In an empty café, Magnus Densen is sitting at the corner of the room, hoping no one would notice him. He is having a foul day, and is in an even fouler mood. He has no trouble trying to hide; he blends in fairly well, as the décor is done in varying shades of creamy off-whites, rich clarets, and sombre ebons.

Natallia Arlovskaya has just received her drink, when she notices a blond man hiding in the corner. Eyeing him suspiciously, she soon loses herself in her thoughts. She drifts off in to a world filled with both great happiness, and terrifying sorrow. A world of opposites.

Sensing the petite blonde's gaze was on him, Magnus shrinks further away in to the corner. He is praying that she will soon lose interest and leave. He wishes to disappear from her gaze. However, Natallia isn't intent on stopping anytime soon. She feels her curiosity in him grow as he tries to hide.

"I am not going to lose interest." she drawls in a sickly sweet voice.

Oh crap, she was directing that at him! Beginning to fidget nervously, Magnus still refuses to acknowledge her, still clinging on to his hope that she will leave.

Seeing him fidget, Natallia continues staring, just to spite him. "I can tell that you are skittish."

Finally unable to take it, Magnus turns to her, and glares half-heartedly at her. "Who asked you?"

"Oh? Is someone pissy?"

"I...Oh shut up." he looks away, not wanting to argue with her.

Laughing at his apparent cowardice, she says, "Make me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Sure, I would like to see you try. And, fail miserably."

Realizing she had just insulted him, he stands up. Although unwilling to start a fight, he won't stand a snub to his pride. "What makes you so sure I'd fail?"

"Well, I have been through much, and so I doubt someone like you could defeat me." she grins cheekily. She is beginning to enjoy this chat very much.

"Don't make assumptions. You think I haven't been through a lot myself?" he snaps, now angry.

"Tch, like that would make a difference." she scoffs crassly.

"Maybe it would. But, who are you?" he asks, quickly changing the subject. He hopes she will go along, so the argument would not escalate.

"A Belarusian who is quite confident she can defeat you."

"Ah, Belarusian, huh? You're quite far from home, aren't you?"

"Like I give a crap."

"Ha, not very lady-like, are you? Oh well, I won't fight a girl, I'm not that kind of guy." Magnus says, smirking. This has piqued his interest in her greatly.

"Ooh, what a gentleman." Natallia rolls her eyes. She is certain that was meant to offend her, but she is used to it.

"Well, that's the first time anyone's called me that."

"I cannot blame them."

"Nobody likes a smart-mouth, Miss Belarusian."

"And nobody likes you, Mr. Whatever."

"Dane, I'm Danish." he supplies happily. This woman...she is quite different indeed.

"Whatever..." she mutters, rolling her eyes. This man...he is undoubtedly annoying.

They become silent, glaring at one another. Unspoken curses and threats swirl in the air, but neither dares to speak, afraid of what the other may do. Two people, who are as different as a thorny but common rose, and a cheerful yet elusive lady slipper. She watches him, stabbing him with her eyes (and a real knife). He scowls, imagining all the names he can spitefully call her.

But, other possibilities begin to arise.

He wonders, maybe she is just sad and lonely. Although she is quite crude and rather penurious, but he can't help but find that she is charming. Of course, in an incredibly odd and crass manner.

She ponders, perhaps he is happy on the surface, but broken on the inside. Despite the fact that he presents himself in such an arrogant and annoying way, she feels a whimsical attraction to him.

"So then, Miss Belarusian, any reason you're so far from home?"

"I am here on a trip."

"Ah, that makes sense. I figured I'd recognize you otherwise."

She remains silent. Her glare softens to a stare.

"Oh, what's the matter, Miss Belarusian? You were so eager to make smart comments earlier."

"Do you desire more, twat?"

"Perhaps; I like women who speak their minds." he says winking and flashing her a smile.

"...W-what?" she splutters in a state of confusion.

"You heard me."

"Bastard."

"Ha, don't get hit on much, do ya?" the Danish man laughs, teasing her.

"S-shut up!" the petite blonde exclaims indignantly.

"Heh, guess not."

"Like you are so superior!"

"Never said that, but yeah. I am."

"Looks like someone has an over-inflated ego."

"I've been told."

"And an air-head to boot."

"At least I know how to act when someone hits on me."

"Screw you, bastard."

"Ya know, you swear like a sailor."

"I could have said worse, like this, you little ass-fucker."

"I never said I cared. After all, I was a sailor." he grins again, this time with a slight flirtatious intent.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" the Belarusian deadpans. She doesn't quite understand his grin.

"Huh, most women swoon or get all blushy when I tell them that."

"Sorry, but I am not impressed."

"What'll it take to impress you then?"

Sighing dreamily, Natallia smiles. "A romantic, and refined person; someone who can make me swoon, and does not care about my eccentricities."

"Sounds like some kind of faerie-tale prince to me." Magnus muses aloud.

"Yes...I suppose that my expectations are a tad too high..."

"Well, it's good that you know what you want."

They remain in a comfortable silence, the Belarusian sipping her tea, and the Dane staring out the window. Two lonely people seeking the others' company for solace and finding each other; it is a small friendship in the works. A friendship with faults, but those faults can be fixed. A mutual understanding is forged.

Or, perhaps something more than that. A brilliant, scarlet string, may attach them together. Perhaps, this meeting as not one of chance, but rather, one of fate. Perhaps, their lives had been leading up to this moment; to the moment when they first met.

Perhaps...this was meant to be.

" _Hej_ , Miss Belarusian, do you have a family?" Magnus asks, slightly startling her.

Natallia hesitates, having an internal debate on whether to tell him or not. "Yes, I do. An older  _siastra_ , and an older  _brat_."

"No parents?"

"No...at least, none that I know of. And how about you, Mr. Dane?"

"I've got four  _brødre_."

"Your family must be rowdy then."

"Yeah...but we're not really brothers."

"Oh?"

"Well, two of them are blood brothers, but we grew up together, so we might as well be true brothers."

"Interesting."

Another silence settles over them. A friendly, no longer hostile, and warm silence rings throughout the air. An unspoken bond is formed, and they enjoy the others' company. Although it is silent, there is no awkwardness, or lack of comfort- it is the kind of peaceful silence that can be shared amongst friends. A stronger understanding passes; they both value their family.

Their connection is strong, the string is no longer stretched out across the lands, trying to connect them. Friendship is already there, though, something bigger may be in Fate's hands, as she carefully trims and grooms the future. Fate, she is the one who decides what happens, and thus, she connected the two with a long, great, scarlet string.

"Say, Mr. Dane, why were you hiding in the corner earlier?" Natallia questions.

Magnus laughs sheepishly, masking his true reasons. "Well, let's just say I had a bad day, and couldn't drown my sorrows in beer."

"Ah, that makes...some sense?"

"And lemme guess, you just came here for coffee?"

"Tea...a-and yes." she answers, voice wavering slightly.

"Hum, I see..." his voice trails off.

Looking at her watch, Natallia sighs. "It is getting late, I must leave you now."

"O-oh, well, don't worry 'bout me! You can go." Magnus says, purposely sounding selfish.

"Who said I was worried about you?"

"Of course you are! Aren't you just charmed and swooning for me?" he teases lightly.

Chuckling softly, she replies just as lightly. "I thought we have gone over this."

"Haha...yeah, sorry for if I make you late or anything."

"Ah, no worries."

Natallia smiles, and leaves the café, with a warm feeling in her heart. An interesting encounter that was indeed. Along with the warm feeling, she feels a flutter in her heart. A flutter, a great, wonderful yet painful flutter.

Magnus watches her leave, and recounts their chat. But, he feels like he is forgetting something. Something is aching in his heart. Did he eat something bad today? No, it's not that, it's her. It must be something to do with her.

He dashes out the café doors.

"Ah! Wait! Miss Belarusian, can I at least have your name?" Magnus calls after her, scrambling to catch up.

Startled by the sudden yell in the night, she whirls around. "My name is Natallia Arlovskaya, Mr. Dane." she answers.

"Long name, Miss Bela-er-Natallia. I'm Magnus Densen."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Densen. I hope you have a good night, and I bid you farewell."

Smiling happily at him, the petite blonde woman leaves once more. His name, she repeats it in her mind, trying to replicate the accent he had said it in. It was making her swoon. He had charmed her, and she fell for him hard. Just like her prince.

Smiling weakly, the tall blond man watches her leave once more. Her name, he chants it like a mantra in his head, in the very accent she said it in. It was elegant, and alluring. Although he had intended to charm her, he was charmed by _her_. Just like her.

He is hoping they could meet again, she was one of the few women who didn't seem to care about being hit on. She seemed more intent on befriending him, in a platonic way. She had comforted him, and he wasn't that sad anymore. Even if they were to never meet again, they will always have that bond. He didn't want to keep it at 'friends'. No, he wanted more. He could feel a slight pang in his heart.

There was little chance that they would meet again.

She is hoping the same, that they could meet again. He was interesting, and was the first person to treat her like an equal, and not particularly care about her cussing. He got rid of her loneliness, her solitude. Even if wasn't forever, they could still keep their bond. She liked being friends with him, though, she craved more. Friends could only heal so much loneliness. The flutter in her heart grew even more.

There was no way they could be more than friends.

* * *

He sees her again, after a lost number of years.

She sees him again, trying to count the years past.

Their bond is still strong; a platonic friendship forged on the frozen fires of solitude. Memories of that night they met come back, brighter and sharper.

Buried feelings of mutual attraction stir once more.

* * *

They say hello, and make small talk. How the years have been, marriage, family, sorrows, worries and prides; the unspoken moment remains. They avoid it, and bade each other farewell; tension remains as the discomfort grows. There is nothing left to say.

They were meant to be, or so had Fate ordained.

But Fate had other ideas. She wished to make them suffer.

The bright red string still connects them, though it is more painful than anything now.

Perhaps, in another life...

Perhaps then, they could be more than friends...

Perhaps, they could be lovers...


End file.
